Differing Origins
by WanderingQuill
Summary: AU:  What if Cloud and his mother moved to Wutai when he was younger?   Gen-fic
1. Chapter 1

DIFFERING ORIGINS

DISCLAIMER: FF7 and its related franchises do not belong to me. This fic is made purely for personal purposes, and is not meant for commercial distribution.

WARNINGS: Gen, OOC, AU, lack of canon accuracy, un-beta-ed

NOTES:

I've been out of fanfic for a couple of years (maybe more). My personal life has its ups and downs, which dramatically affects my own writing. Therefore, please be warned that this fic is incomplete. I can't guarantee completion, regardless of your threats, pleas, or demands. However, I hope that you still enjoy whatever I manage to post.

This fic will bear little resemblance to FF7 canon. It's primarily a writing exercise, so I apologize for inaccuracies.

My version of Wutai is Japanese-oriented. So I'll be mixing Japanese culture (what little I know) with Wutai, and any Wutaian names will be Japanese, except those given in canon.

I.

Cloud Strife's life went through a pivotal change when he was only six years old.

It was a simple change, but enough to dramatically alter future events.

It started on one frigid late winter day. The winds were brisk, sufficient to chill any unprotected flesh to the bones. The grounds were covered in inches of snow, and pine trees hung with icicles. The village of Nibelheim were preparing for a late winter feast, a custom specific to their village in anticipation for the coming spring. The adults, bundled in thick furs from head to toe, bustled from house to the townhall, carrying packages and bowls of steaming food. The townhall, a small building located next to the mayor's house, was decorated with scraps of brightly-coloured cloth and paper. The inside was lit brightly with a string of bulbs, thanks to Nibel's sinister Mako reactor, illuminating the two long tables slowly filling with food. Two large fireplaces, set on the back end of the hall a few feet apart, burned with thick logs. One was being used to prepare a cauldron of hearty meat and vegetable stew sufficient for 20 people, while the second had a spit of slowly roasting pig being rotated by one of the villagers.

Cloud, tiny and blond, was hovering outside the townhall. He was wistfully watching the younger village children as they played tag with each other. A few of the older children were coming and going from the townhall, proudly helping their parents to set up for the feast.

"Oi, Cloud."

The boy turned, surprised. It was Tifa and one of the other boys, Wren. Tifa looked impatient, while Wren was smiling at him. Cloud tentatively smiled back. "Hi," he offered shyly.

"We need help looking for Wren's chicken," Tifa announced. Cloud cocked his head to the side. "It's their family's gift for the feast, except Wren wasn't careful enough in taking it out of the coop. It ran off and we have to go find it right away so his mom can cook it for the feast."

"Um, okay," Cloud said unsurely. They had never asked him to help before. Cloud and his mother, newcomers to the village, were treated with deep suspicion and disdain by the rest of the village. It made it difficult and lonely for Cloud, even if his mother was able to help them live a good life thanks to their small farm and her work as village seamstress.

He followed them to the outskirts of the village, shivering. He pulled down his thick knitted cap on top of his ears and blew into his mittened hands.

Tifa pointed to the right, where the village led down a rocky trail to a stream and small forest. "You go over there. I'm going this way." She point forward, towards where the old bridge leading to the reactor was. "Wren will go that way." Last she pointed left, where the trail led up to small hill.

"Okay," Cloud repeated obediently. He set off down the trail, carefully clutching rocks to avoid slipping.

For the next two hours, Cloud hunted up and down the stream. Fearful and anxious to please, he grew increasingly upset at his inability to find the missing fowl. Finally, desperate, he began slowly venturing into the forest.

Now, Nibelheim children were taught general woodcraft, if only because the village was isolated and surrounded by mountains and forests of most sides. Cloud, however, knew little since the adults disdained him, and his mother was brought up in a coastal village. As such, it didn't take long for Cloud to get lost.

That night, the village was locked down due to a surprise blizzard.

By the time Cloud's mother and the villagemen found him the next day, Cloud had buried himself in a self-made snow cavern, halfway to hypothermia in a comatose state.

When Cloud woke up 3 weeks later, he and his mother were far from Nibelheim.


	2. Chapter 2

DIFFERING ORIGINS

DISCLAIMER: FF7 and its related franchises do not belong to me. This fic is made purely for personal purposes, and is not meant for commercial distribution.

WARNINGS: Gen, OOC, AU, lack of canon accuracy, un-beta-ed

WW

II.

The village of Honrei was as different from Nibelheim as possible. For one thing, it was set at sea level, next to a large ocean. For another, the climate was temperate and humid, with the rain a common companion. Thanks to the rain and the sun, the village had healthy ricefields to the left and a thick forest to the back, while small boats launched in the early morning to catch a variety of fish, molluscs, and even seaweed.

It took Cloud over three months to fully recover from that shocking ordeal in Nibelheim. His mother, generally a friendly and gregarious woman, had a severe and stern expression on her face at the very mention of their old home. She fussed over him ridiculously, insisting on the local doctor visiting as often as once a week to ensure that he was healing properly.

Thanks to Cloud's thick attire and the warmth within the caverns, Cloud was spared damaged limbs due to frostbite. The experience, however, did not leave Cloud completely unscathed, as he suffered severe Mako poisoning to the point that he had several fits during the two-week long transfer between Nibelheim and Honrei.

First, the Mako poisoning had affected his memory. Cloud now only had vague memories of Nibelheim and its people, and none at all of what happened on that fateful day. Second, the dangerous toxin had settled deeply in his throat, and it left Cloud with a damaged voicebox, his previous sweet and piping voice now a harsh and raspy whisper. He became much quieter than before, even with his mother, since he preferred not to speak. Last, the experience appeared to have numbed Cloud emotionally. Whereas before the boy wallowed in emotional extremes and was thin-skinned, this Cloud more often than not did not react. Few things now impacted him emotionally, and he was often seen with his eyes in the far horizon, as if hearing voices in the wind.

Oddly enough, in Honrei, the other children were often fascinated by him and the adults were sympathetic to the boy, even though he and his mother looked dramatically different from the dark-haired, dark-eyed and olive-skinned villagers.

"Cloud!"

The eight-year-old boy, pink-cheeked and glowing underneath the warm beach sun, turned. His face was expressionless, with large eyes reflecting the sparkling blue of the ocean. In his hands, he was clutching a basket of shellfish. While his mother worked as one of Honrei's seamstresses, making beautiful clothes to sell the tourists and villagers, Cloud had found work as one of the juvenile pearl-divers.

Pearl-diving was a treacherous but profitable job. One of Wutai's main exports was its gorgeous saltwater pearls, which were used in jewelry and beading. Even wealthy Shinra executives paid a month's salary for a rope of high-quality Wutai pearls.

Honrei had two areas thick with large oysters. They were protected by an array of reefs, making it difficult for those without the proper knowledge and training to safely find and harvest the oysters. Honrei was one of Wutai's prized pearl-villages, and it had some of the best Wutaian divers alive. Its wealth of pearls made it a tempting target, and the reason why Lord Godo had installed a shinobi base on the borders of the village. Black shadows flying across the night were common sightings in the village, and even during the day, uniformed shinobi made their random patrols, hidden behind a light armour and a face mask.

Six months after Cloud had woken up, his doctor had recommended regular dips in the ocean to help him reverse the muscle atrophy he suffered. Cloud had then discovered a skill and love for swimming. Soon, the boy was more frequently found in the sea, keeping companion with the schools of colourful fish darting in and out of the beautiful seascape. The other village kids, curious and wanting to connect with the strange ethereal boy that seemed more spirit than human, began to take him to their special places in the beach. They taught Cloud how to dig out seashells and string them into necklaces and bracelets. His mother, happier and more settled in Honrei than in Nibelheim, encouraged her son to bring her whatever he found. Many nights were spent carefully learning to drill holes into the shells and sew them onto the bags, shoes, and even belts hand-crafted by the other villagers.

In the two years since then, Cloud and his mother began to discover the other effects of successful recovery from Mako poisoning. His lungs had a much larger capacity than even the other divers, allowing him to stay underwater for incredible periods of time. His eyes were illuminated by Mako, making them glow in the dark, and he could see much farther and better than most. His other senses were also enhanced, from his hearing to his touch. His skin, pale to the point of translucency, never tanned and never burned, unlike his mother who frequently had to wear mass amounts of sunscreen and a large-brimmed hat. He remained much smaller than other boys his size, his limbs thin and frail-looking, even though Mako also left him with a surprising tensile strength in his body that was further honed by his deep diving.

While these notable effects deeply disturbed his mother, who often worried about her little boy, Cloud was quietly satisfied with the changes. Other than hazy visions of being surrounded by green and the faint echo of a million voices in chorus, he remembered little of his ordeal and what he remembered made him feel a soft welcome warmth that was similar to what he felt deep in the depths of the ocean. He may recall little of Nibelheim, but he did have unpleasant memories of loneliness, bullying, and even fighting with other children. Now, thanks to Mako, Cloud knew that he need not feel vulnerable or fearful any longer.

They also led to his eventual occupation as a pearl-diver. The other children had noted how well Cloud swam, his keen eyes picking out the best-formed shells, and his dextrousness in extracting prizes from the reefs. It caught the ears and eyes of the head of the Divers' Guild, Narukawa Iseo, who spoke with Cloud and his mother. His mother had not been happy, in fact she was frightened of the dangers, but Cloud, enchanted at the idea of hunting for treasures in the deep, had insisted.

A year was spent of intense training, practicing safe deep diving techniques, and learning how to properly harvest the large oysters while avoiding the killer denizens of the reefs. Cloud did excel as his village friends knew he would, and his small size made him ideal for going into the tiny nooks that the larger divers couldn't get into. Since pearl-divers kept a substantial percentage of the profits of their dives, by the time Cloud was eight, he and his mother had accumulated enough wealth that they would have qualified to live above-Plate in Midgar for years.

The boy calling him was one of his fellow pearl-divers, a ten-year-old named Ginta. Ginta's face was frantic, his eyes enormous in his deeply tanned face. Cloud frowned. "Somebody is caught in a reef hole by the pearl nest!" he yelled.

Cloud dropped the basket on the ground, and both boys began to run to the south beach of the village. There was already a crowd of people hovering by the diving area. The boys pushed their way through just in time to see Ginta's father, one of their better divers slip into the water, trailing an oxygen canister. Other divers were gathered in a circle closest to the waters' edge. Cloud and Ginta moved towards them, eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Stupid girl got herself caught in one of those reef shelves," reported Kino, a seventeen-year-old diver. The children didn't like him because he allowed his skill at pearl-diving to make him arrogant and nasty towards them. "She's getting too big to even think about being able to get into those spaces."

"Kino!" scolded an angry dive-master, Master Junpei. "You know the reason why she's been working harder the past few days!"

"Of course I know, but fat lot of good it does for her little brother if she dies trying to gain enough money to send him for that surgery in Wutai City!" retorted Kino, flushed.

Cloud realized that they were talking about Honma Maki, the new sixteen-year-old diver. She and her little brother had moved seven months ago from the pearling village of Itou. She was a decent diver, but more used to the calmer waters of Itou's pearl nests. Her brother, seven years old, had fallen from a chocobo three days ago and had a severe compound fracture in his left arm that was beyond the abilities and equipment of their local doctor. Unfortunately, rumour has it that the reason why Maki and her brother had left Itou was to leave their father who had drank all their pearl diving profits over the years.

"Cloud!" Master Junpei saw him. The older man, wrinkled from years beneath the strong sun and incredibly strong thanks to decades of deep diving, hesitated then gestured for him to come closer. Ginta tagged along, curious.

"You probably have heard," the old master began. "Maki was diving and she tried to harvest through a nook too small for her. She's now caught in the hole. We have divers trying to chip at the reefs, but it's hard for them to get to her since the area she's in is narrow. We need someone small to help get her out." He looked into Cloud's eyes. "Would you be willing to help?"

Cloud nodded. In little time, he was suited up, loaded with an oxygen tank and trailing a spare one. With one brief glimpse backwards, long enough to see his mother's large-brimmed hat, he fell backwards into the deep.

Familiarity with the pearl nests enabled him to find the others within moments. There were two other divers aside from Ginta's father, Tomo, and Cloud recognized them as Ponchi and Wen. They were using daggers to chip at the reef, which was normally prohibited as they negatively affected the pearl nests. Cloud swam towards them, and using hand signals, was directed into the narrow corridor leading to Maki.

Maki was trapped at the end of the corridor, surrounded by thick corals. Her long black hair had come loose during her dive and was caught tightly among the jagged surfaces. Her eyes were enormous, reflecting her terror, even as her hands steadily tried to saw through her hair using their regulation daggers. Unfortunately, the narrowness of the corridor made it difficult for her to reach behind herself. Cloud's eyes widened at the stream of blood spreading from behind her head. It was apparent that she had somehow injured herself.

Cloud handed her the spare tank and waited until she had resettled before taking out his dagger. Swimming until he was on top of her, he began the sawing motions. Seeing as he could see what he was cutting and with his unnatural Mako-given strength, it took Cloud only a few moments before he was able to free Maki completely. The girl, now with hair only inches from her scalp, nodded at his signs and followed him cautiously back out of the corridor.

They found themselves at the sight of a nightmare.

Blood in the water.

Cloud had known that they only had moments, but he had hoped that they would be out of the water before the predators came.

They were too late.

Tomo, Ponchi, and Wen were circling warily as three sea serpents came towards them. All divers knew them as venomous and difficult to kill. The only advantage was the fact that these serpents were blind.

All three heads snapped in Maki and Cloud's direction, and all three rushed forward. The divers scattered.

Cloud armed with a dagger caught the first one right in the throat as it dove at him, mouth wide open. He let go just in time to avoid the second's snapping jaws. Then Tomo and Ponchi were by him, daggers flashing as they sunk them into the serpent's thin hide. Both beasts flailed in their death throes.

The third snuck in between the other two. Cloud tried to swim away but it was faster than him. He was inches from that wildly snapping mouth when the snake jerked backwards. Tomo had pulled at the serpent's tail. It reared and struck towards him, a streak of lightning in the water.

The older man tried to dart away, but the other serpents were still thrashing behind him and he couldn't move away fast enough. The serpent's jaws caught his leg, and he convulsed in pain. Cloud, eyes wide in horror and fury, grabbed one of the protruding branches of coral and snapped it off. With hands clenched around the coral, he swam on top of the beast and stabbed down in fury right at the base of the serpent's neck. Its mouth opened in shock and Cloud darted forward to drag Tomo away. The rest of them, including Maki, made their furious way towards the surface, trying to outrace the other monsters that were starting to show up.

They surfaced, Wen and Ponchi dragging Tomo between them. The village doctor was already there, his medical kit at his feet. Within moments, they had Tomo lying on the beach and he was already starting to inject something into the unconscious man's arm. Ginta, who had become as white as bone at the sight of his father, sat next to Tomo, clutching his father's hand tightly. He didn't acknowledge Cloud.

Cloud, on the other hand, was dragged into a frantic embrace by his sobbing mother. He stood there, his mother kneeling in front of him, and he stared at Tomo and Ginta. His hands dripped blood on the sand.

When Ginta found him that night, he was sitting in the beach with a plate of uneaten shellfish beside him. "Hey," the boy greeted him.

Cloud looked at him.

Ginta, used to Cloud's strangeness, looked down and took a deep breath. "I'm not mad, you know. I-I was just scared…about my dad."

"How is he?" Cloud asked.

"The doc said he's going to be fine. Luckily, he had some antidote so they caught the poison in time. He's not going to be able to dive for a month at least though," Ginta said glumly. It was hard for pearl divers to stop diving, even temporarily. "What about you? I heard you got injured."

Cloud looked down at his bandaged hands. His mother had disinfected and treated his coral-damaged hands while scolding him for his foolhardiness. "It's fine." He looked back at the ocean.

Both sat quietly for the next few moments.

"I'm going to Wutai City," Cloud announced. Ginta gaped. "My mom wants me to take a break from pearl diving. She doesn't like knowing that we could have all died down there today. She says I'm only eight and I shouldn't have to work like this."

"That's crazy! You're one of our best divers! From what I heard, you also killed two of those serpents!" The boy hesitated. "Are-are you scared? After what happened?"

The question didn't offend Cloud as it would have any other eight-year-old. He thought about it.

He had been scared, back there in the deep, the water going from a deep shade of blue to a smoky red from the bloodspray. He had been shocked into fright by the sudden lunging of that first sea serpent. He had been desperate for flight when the other nipped at his heels.

He had been terrified to realize that Ginta's father was about to die in front of him and he could do nothing.

"I am going to Wutai City," he said softly, "and I'm going to learn to be shinobi."

WW


	3. Chapter 3

DIFFERING ORIGINS

BY WANDERINGQUILL

Thank you so much for your reviews! I'm very happy to find several people had added this story to their favourites, and hopefully you'll continue to enjoy it.

A reviewer inquired about Cloud's mother's reasons for going to a completely different country. I will be addressing that in an interlude that I'll be posting later.

This chapter is unexpected and hopefully moves the plot forward.

WWW

III.

The woods were silent.

Cloud's eyes were narrow, darting to and fro. He was in a slightly crouched position, a shadow behind a large bramble bush. A signal to his left, a flickering of gloved fingers almost too fast for comprehension, and he ran on tiptoes straight down the forest path.

He leapt up as a spray of flying daggers erupted from his left. He landed on the branch above him, and it creaked at his slight weight. Cloud winced at the sound.

Swiftly, he brought up his short sword and it hissed as another blackened sword slid along its edges. Cloud swayed on the branch, breathing hard as he swung his sword to meet each powerful blow. Then he gasped as a second weapon was put into play and he instinctively moved back to avoid the underhanded swing of the dagger. His back foot landed on air, and he fell.

_Thud. _Unprepared for the fall and too close to the ground, Cloud landed loudly on the balls of his feet. He grimaced as he felt the fall vibrate up his spine painfully, his knees trembling. Then it was over. Unable to recover fast enough from his fall, the enemy ninja had landed behind him and held a blackened steel edge along his throat.

"Yield," he gasped, still breathing heavily.

The sword fell away and the weight at his back disappeared. Cloud remained on his feet through sheer effort.

The ninja stepped in front of him, pulling off the heavy black cloths that hid his face and hair. A short, slight man with a weather-beaten face and narrow grey eyes, Master Shuji Nezu had been a ninja for over four decades and was currently the Training Master of the Bloody Hawk Clan. He was renowned for being an almost inhumanly patient man, as fully capable as a snake to await silently and unobtrusively for its prey. This translated to a remarkable tolerance for his students, which led to him receiving students that other Training Masters had rejected for one reason or another.

Cloud met the Training Master's eyes squarely. He was exhausted from that day's exam, and his body hurt. But even worse than his body's pains, was the knowledge that he could have done better and he hadn't.

"You have spent four years under our Clan's Study Halls," the Training Master stated in his quiet voice. "You have improved greatly from when you have begun, yet you improve little in certain things."

This time, Cloud's eyes fell to the floor. Unlike the other shinobi students who seemed to have little problems with stealth and balancing on precarious heights, Cloud was always making some noise or other. He was also uncomfortable when he needed to balance on narrow and high places, such as tree branches or fences.

However, Cloud's speed and ability to fight evenly with an opponent much bigger and heavier than him was awe-inspiring. He had the strength of two adult shinobi, and when he wielded a sword as if he was born to it.

But shinobi fought in the hidden shadows. They struck swift, glancing blows aimed to assassinate or incapacitate in the quietest, most unobtrusive way possible. They did not stand their ground and fight their opponent to a standstill. They did not wield materia as if they were fighting Bahamut.

Some of Cloud's jealous and unkind classmates called him "SOLDIER Cloud", after ShinRa's notorious, overpowered warriors. While in Midgar and other ShinRa territory that would have been an admirable label, in Wutai, it left him subject to scorn and ugly jokes.

Cloud had ignored the jibes, the pranks, and the jeers. He focused instead of honing his skills, spending hours more than his training mates on the fields or in the practice halls. Yet, the more Cloud trained to become a ninja, the more Cloud was starting to understand that he wasn't meant to be one. Something deeply ingrained in him refused to react like a shinobi would in certain circumstances, which would be fatal if he was ever sent on missions.

The problem was that Cloud was now 15. This was the age when shinobi, most of whom having been training since they were six years old, received their full certification as shinobi and would be assigned to working teams and on missions. If Cloud failed this final assessment, he would be denied his certification and forced out of the Clan's Study Halls.

"You have failed the assessment," Master Shuji said. Cloud closed his eyes and breathed out, a long pained breath whispering his disappointment and shame. "However, if you are willing, there is one mission that may be suitable for you."

Cloud opened his eyes and met the Training Master's, distantly curious.

"Our Emperor is looking for young men to infiltrate ShinRa's military ranks. The negotiations have been deteriorating rapidly, and it is only a matter of time before ShinRa declares war on Wutai. We may have as little as two or three years, maybe only one. We need to be prepared."

The boy nodded slowly. Wutai needed spies, informants, saboteurs. Perfect work for shinobi but for the fact that most Wutaians were distinctly identifiable due to their unique features and small stature. Light-coloured hair and eyes were recessive within the Wutaian gene pool, and thus uncommon, whereas they were more common in Midgar and among the ShinRa-held areas.

If he accepted, it would be exile for as long as the war lasted. If he survived. If he died, his mother would not have the consolation of his dead body nor the closure of knowing that he was actually dead. It meant leaving everything that was familiar to him to enter a world completely unfamiliar and potentially dangerous.

But Wutai needed him, and his years in Wutai and among its people had taught Cloud loyalty and affection towards his adopted country.

Wutai needed him and he would go.

A closed fist hit the open palm of his left hand, and Cloud bowed, his upper body perfectly parallel to the ground. "I accept."


	4. MOTHER'S INTERLUDE

DIFFERING ORIGINS

DISCLAIMER: FF7 and its related franchises do not belong to me. This fic is made purely for personal purposes, and is not meant for commercial distribution.

WARNINGS: Gen, OOC, AU, lack of canon accuracy, un-beta-ed

NOTES:

Remember it's AU and OOC.

This interlude occurs shortly after the pearl diving incident and prior to them moving to Wutai City.

WWW

**_MOTHER'S INTERLUDE_**

Astoria Strife sat next to her son's bed, a soft smile on her lips. She gently caressed his thick bright-yellow locks, admiring how cherubic he appeared as he slept.

She sat there, continuing to run her fingers through his hair, remembering.

She had been a seamstress' daughter in Costa del Sol. Sheltered and over-protected by her blacksmith father, Astoria had been kept away from the sailors, soldiers, and gamblers that frequented that area. Astoria, who had bloomed young, had chafed at the restrictions and often made her way to the more dangerous parts of town. Along with other young girls, they made a game of flirting with older men and youths.

Her smile twisted in bitter memory.

He had been like a prince from her childhood fantasies. He came in a long white car, blond, tall, and handsome, in rich clothes and surrounded by guards. His grey-blue eyes were magnetic as they rested on each of the local girls, and there was a perpetual smirk on his face.

Astoria had fallen head over heels.

Their eyes met, and it didn't take long for the young man to approach her.

If she only knew then what she knew now, she would have heeded her father and kept as far away from Verteine Shinra as possible.

Then again, she wasn't sure she could blame the foolish young girl that she had been. Verteine had showered her with money, jewels, and status. He took her away from Costa del Sol and set her up in an exclusive and beautiful apartment in one of Midgar's most expensive neighborhoods. Every time he visited her, he gave her magnificent floral bouquets and took her to high-class restaurants.

It wasn't until they had been a year into their relationship that Verteine slipped and revealed that he was already married. By then, it was too late…she was already pregnant.

Pregnant at eighteen. Taken out of her home. Surrounded by every sign that she was good enough only as mistress, and never as wife.

Verteine hadn't been happy to find out she was pregnant. It was his insistence in abortion that led her to run as far away from Midgar as possible.

Desperate and lonely, she had returned to Costa del Sol first, but found no welcome there in either her father or mother.

It was while she was sitting in one of the cheap canteens by the area's tourist boulevards scouring the local newspaper for work that she found the escape she needed. A peddler of goods was looking for a wife. Astoria hadn't hesitated and the man, in his early twenties, had been surprised and enchanted by her pretty voluptuousness. He agreed to marry her on the spot.

Surprisingly, the next two years with her husband had been a time of peace and happiness. Harald Strife was born and bred in the village of Nibelheim. He was a restless man, always wanting to see what was over the next horizon. He had not been surprised to realize his new wife was pregnant, and while he was distant to Cloud after his birth, he had also been kindly and generous.

Cloud was three years old when Harald had the urge to return back to his roots, little suspecting that he would die there in the mountains, a victim of the ferocious Nibel wolves.

Astoria, more mature and stronger after years of hardship, travel, and bearing and raising a child, had decided to rough it out in Nibelheim. She had disliked it, with its paranoid inbred villagers, treacherous and hostile climate, and its utter dreariness; it was solely for Cloud's sake, she kept her chin up and worked there as one of the local seamstresses. Her earnings were meagre, but since she and Cloud maintained a kitchen garden and some sturdy local hens, they had sufficient funds to live on. She had also been courted by one of the more outgoing woodcutters, and likely, she would have married him and stayed there for the rest of her and Cloud's lives.

But Astoria could never forgive the villagers for almost leaving her child to die, nor could she forgive the children who abandoned her son to the snow, showing neither remorse nor sorrow at his loss. She couldn't forgive or forget that the Nibel mountains had almost robbed her twice, and she prepared to leave as soon as Cloud could safely travel. Even though he remained unconscious, Astoria knew that she would find no cure nor help if she remained in Nibelheim.

When she and Cloud finally left Nibelheim, the only thing in her mind was to get away from anything occupied by Shinra. It was almost as if Verteine had cast a curse upon her. Astoria wouldn't have been surprised. The man was vain and narcissistic—he would never forgive her for the sin of rejecting and running away from him.

So now they were in Wutai, as far away from Shinra as she could get. She loved it here, from the exotic and tasty dishes to the warm, friendly villagers. She loved that she could have a new beginning, that Cloud could have a new beginning.

But Cloud…

Astoria knew that running away wouldn't solve problems. Cloud was different. Even from his infancy, she had already sensed something different about her son. Cloud was meant for something great, something terrible, something dangerous.

But her Cloud was only eight, and if Astoria can put off his destiny by running to Wutai City, she would.

WW


	5. Chapter 5

_DIFFERING ORIGINS_

_DISCLAIMER: FF7 and its related franchises do not belong to me. This fic is made purely for personal purposes, and is not meant for commercial distribution._

_WARNINGS: Gen, OOC, AU, lack of canon accuracy, un-beta-ed_

_NOTES:_

_Please remember it's AU and OOC. I am only familiar with the original FF7 and FF7: Advent Children. Description and characterization of any other canon characters from the other games will be iffy. I know—what am I doing writing on a fandom I barely know, right? Honestly, I have no reason but just love for FF7-verse._

_Thank you so much for your encouraging reviews. It's hard writing after not writing so long, and sometimes it's like pulling teeth. Your reviews encourage me and sometimes even provoke new ideas. I hope that you continue to enjoy this fic. I wish I could write longer, but please don't hold my inability to write more against me._

WWW

Cloud wrinkled his nose, distaste written all over his face. After the clean fresh air of Wutai, its beautiful green rolling hills, and its friendly people, the city of Midgar was a blight to all senses. It was monstrous in its ugliness, its massive pillars black and grey, the upper plate obscuring sun and sky and gave the entire city an appearance of a squat mutant mushroom. The air was a stale yellow from a combination of noxious industrial gases, vehicle pollution, and evaporating street wastes, and it smelled like a dozen newly-filled outhouses. There were no trees, not even a potted plant within view, and whatever animals Cloud saw were whip-thin and snarling, products of years of abuse and too little food. There was an explosion of people all around him, including those who had just arrived in the afternoon train with him. Cloud, disoriented and nauseated both from the train and Midgar's atmosphere, stood in their midst like a pebble dropped arbitrarily in a scummy puddle.

He stumbled as someone pushed him from behind. The young boy frowned, eyes narrowed, as he studied the broad shoulders and trim figure in a long black and red leather jacket and low-heeled black boots of the man who strode past him arrogantly. There was a sword hilt sticking out from the left shoulder. He noted how the rest of the crowd exiting the station platform flinched and moved away from the man. He wondered if the man was one of the SOLDIERs he had been briefed on. Wutai had minimal information on this special ShinRa unit; their records only mentioned glowing eyes, unnatural strength and speed, powerful materia, and a tendency towards berserker-like behaviour in the battlefield. Cloud had been informed that they formed the elite of ShinRa's army, but their actual numbers remained a mystery.

Cloud contemplated following the man, but he decided against it. Cloud's part of the mission was to tap into intelligence, not fool around with SOLDIERs. He had no doubt that there was at least one operative already in charge with gathering information on that unit.

Holding tightly to his travelling bag, Cloud joined the flow of pedestrians. He hadn't been given much instruction as to what to do when he arrived, but he hadn't expected any. Shinobi were different from Wutai's regular forces because they were made of highly-trained operatives who were expected to be able to land on their feet regardless of where they were left behind. Part of being shinobi was being able to make proper judgments given little information and only a mission objective; that way, in cases of being caught and interrogated, shinobi had minimal information to impart. Cloud huffed. That was all well and good in theory, but it didn't help one displaced boy as he tried to make his way in an alien and hostile environment.

Seeing a faded soup bowl sign in LED lights with an OPEN sign tacked above a doorway in one of the buildings, Cloud decided that it would not be a bad idea to get something to eat and get his bearings at the same time. He had to push his way through the crowd, an unpleasant and unfriendly task, but he finally managed to stumble into the diner.

It was surprisingly large inside, one room with 5 round tables, capable of sitting 25. Since it was late afternoon, it was only a quarter full, its hungry patrons scattered all over. On the far left was an L-shaped bar and two men in reasonably clean white aprons and stocking caps who were busily preparing bowls of steaming noodles from large metal pots. Cloud watched as they completed one bowl—one man seemed responsible for reading the order and preparing the bowl of soup, while the other man took the finished bowl, eased it onto the bar, called out a number, and took in the money. Cloud's eyes wandered and he saw a small line of people going to a little ticketing machine on the far right corner. He gingerly made his way past the tables, careful not to jostle any of the seated customers, and ended up with ticket #17.

The smell of the miso pork ramen was surprisingly enticing, and Cloud's critical eyes couldn't find anything overtly wrong with the dish. It even looked right, down to the tiny pieces of dried seaweed floating next to the thin slices of meat and bamboo shoots. He decided not to think too much about what the meat actually was, and heavy tray in hand, started for an empty spot in a middle table.

The soup was spicy and hot, the meat and vegetables tender, and it even tasted close to Wutai's original version. Cloud ate his slowly, eyes lowered as he tried to consider what he should do next.

His mission commander had told him that it would be best if he avoided combat-intensive positions. Years of Wutai training couldn't be erased, he'd been told, and experienced warriors would easily notice how much more adept he was at weapons and physical combat than boys his age should be. The same for his Materia training, especially as Cloud had a remarkable affinity for Materia and a ridiculously high MP reservoir. Be a clerk, he was told. Clerks, especially good ones, eventually became secretaries and assistants. Secretaries and assistants are their bosses' confidantes and sounding boards.

Perfect positions for the average spy/saboteur. If Cloud was able to steadily get promotions into strategic positions in the next three years, he might even be able to redirect orders and supplies to Wutai's advantage in case war did break out. At the very least, he would have access to higher levels of confidential information.

So, Cloud thought to himself, chewing a piece of meat slowly, find a job as a clerk. Maybe a weapon supply clerk.

Somebody jostled Cloud's elbow, and the boy jerked backwards violently as his bowl tipped forward. He yelped in shock as his chair fell to the ground, his back hitting the plastic with a painful thud. Then the boy hissed as the still-warm soup broth spilled onto his pants.

"Excuse me," came a completely insincere apology. Cloud grimaced and rolled to the side slowly, trying to avoid any more splatters on his clothes. He regained his footing and looked up to see a towering mass of muscle. His eyes widened as he saw the long red jacket and familiar sword hilt. It was the jerk from the station. The man's face was pale and aristocratic, with an aquiline nose and thin lips curled in a disdainful twist. His eyes, narrow, glowing, and grey, looked Cloud up and down in bored challenge. The man was bracing a loaded tray on a jutted right hip, and his left foot tapped impatiently.

Cloud breathed through his nose sharply, but refrained from saying anything. He merely shifted to one side and warily watched the taller man jauntily moved past him to sit two tables away. He had apparently been summarily dismissed for there were no more incidents, and Cloud turned back to his spoiled meal.

It was a lost cause. The broth was spilled all over the tray and was puddling on the floor, chunks of leftover meat and noodles floating on the surface. His bag had been within the splash zone, but luckily, it was oiled with a special waterproofing solution. He pulled at his pants with a grimace; he would have to walk around in wet pants until he finally found a reasonable place to stay.

"You okay, boy?"

He turned to see the restaurant's cashier standing next to him. The man had a mop and a bucket in hand. "Yes," Cloud said softly. "I can clean it up," he offered.

"Good," the man said unsmilingly and thrust the mop and bucket into Cloud's hands. The boy closed his eyes, ignored the snickering of the other diners, and began to clean up.

WWW

Three hours later, Cloud was back on the streets of Midgar. He had managed to find a room in a dingy dormitory ten blocks from the train station. The price had been ludicrous, considering his accommodation consisted of one semi-clean bed in a room with four, a small metal locker, and a shower that sputtered cold water. Cloud had taken it without complaint, took a shower, and changed into a pair of well-worn dark leather pants, heavy boots, and a black, bulky long-sleeved turtleneck. He locked his bag into his assigned locker, using his personal padlock, and booby trapped it with razor-twine. Like all undercover operatives, he had only brought the minimum required clothing and shoes, though of good quality, a set of books (useful for both reading and code-work), some stationary, toiletries, food and water, wallet complete with pictures of two females (subbing in for his mother and girlfriend), and his prepared passes and paperwork. Cloud's few non-essentials included a carved steel wolf stud in his left ear, two polished wooden sticks as long as his arm, a spool of razor twine and its special cutting knife, and two Materia—one low-level ice and fire each. The fighting sticks, known as moro-moro sticks in Wutai, and the materia were especially chosen since they were his best weapon aside from swords and were unassuming in appearance, and the materia were a type that could be easily obtained for a reasonable amount in any ShinRa reactor town. Since Cloud was claiming to be from the busy and large port of Junon, they wouldn't be unusual items for a boy to have; a few travellers, mostly excitable and battle-hungry young men, often purchased cheap materia from local stores to use against monsters. Cloud had checked a few of these materia throughout his trip from Wutai to Midgar and had been appalled at the quality. Most were little more than dully-glowing marbles, with a speckled or a webbed surface. Cloud thought that if somebody did manage to somehow release the materia's hidden spell, the materia would more than likely explode along with the wielder's arm. He chose to save his money.

Cloud had debated as to whether to take at least the moro-moro sticks for protection, but decided against it. He didn't want to gain the wrong sort of attention that fighting well would incur.

Coming downstairs, he had found the dorm's lobby half-filled with boys his age. Careful questioning revealed that all of them were there for the scheduled entrance exams to get into ShinRa's cadet program. A talkative brunette, clearly both excited and frightened to death, babbled about how the cadet program was the entry way into ShinRa's SOLDIER program and how much awesome life would be if one was a first-class SOLDIER like General Sephiroth! Cloud, carefully primed from years of being talked at by his Wutaian friends, nodded his head at strategic intervals and made interested noises. It took very little for the boy to spill out what he knew of ShinRa's military structure.

Cloud listened intently. Wutai's records of ShinRa had only begun to be amassed two years ago, and had large gaps. Prior to that time, ShinRa had been more intent on planting its Mako reactors in whatever town it could build/bribe/conquer within its own continent. Lord Godo, a peaceful man more focused in maintaining his country's wealth, had only paid minimal attention to the industrial giant; he had believed that the distance and the ocean between them would be sufficient to save them from ShinRa's ambitions. Clearly, that had been the wrong attitude to take, and now Wutai was scrambling to accumulate intel against the other nation.

Apparently, Cloud's goal to become a clerk would not be as easy as he had initially assumed. There were only two ways into ShinRa: either as a cadet in their military or a salaried civilian in their company. All jobs, high and low, combatant and non-combatant, within ShinRa's military were given only to those who had undergone and passed the cadet program. To get a job within ShinRa co. itself was just as difficult. As the biggest and most stable employer, the competition for jobs, even low-paying ones were high. Cloud, with minimal provable education and skills, would be competing against Midgar-bred and –educated hopefuls who were likelier to pass any required security checks.

Still, the boy had decided that he needed to at least give it a try. Even a job as a janitor might have potential.

So now, the boy was on a train heading to the Upper Plate, where he would find ShinRa's Human Resources office. The guards at the station sneered at him but did nothing. The security screen did not beep, and he was safely past. Cloud moved to the side and looked around.

The Upper Plate was a cleaner, brighter, more colourful version of the Lower Plate. Cloud could actually see the sky and the sun, though the air was still lightly tinged with yellow. Most of the buildings were tall, glassy towers, sleek and streamlined. There were a few scraggly trees and squares of bushes and flowers on a set pattern on the walkways, and the stores had beautiful glass displays. There were LED signs everywhere, with neon billboards advertising this and that, and like the Lower Plate, bustled with people. One big difference was that the people in the Upper Plate were noticeably cleaner, better-dressed, and walked with an air of smug importance.

As Cloud walked around, he observed the people. Most of the people he passed were noticeably civilians, dressed in a variety of fashion. Every so often, he would see clumps of young males in uniform, eyeing passing girls or looking at store displays. His eyes noted several men, usually tall and bulky in dark leathers and boots with a variety of weapons, who were trolling about. His lips compressed. They reminded him of the SOLDIER in the red jacket, and guessed that they were indeed SOLDIERs.

Another type of pedestrian that Cloud saw every so often were dressed in a sharp blue suit. These men and women moved with a casual air of competence, and they smiled politely at the other passersby. However, something about them made Cloud's gut clench, and he decided that he would need to find more about them.

Cloud spent the next three hours wandering around the Upper Plate. He discovered that it was organized in districts, with the ShinRa Tower at its centre. Everybody seemed to live within one of the smaller towers, and Cloud could see well-lit lobbies from the glass front doors. There was a variety of restaurants, shops, theatres, and even malls within the towers. The boy had even scouted out the Upper Plate's red light district, and was bombarded by neon lights advertising clubs, bars, love hotels, and brothels. He had been shocked to see that they even had a mock-up of a Wutaian teashop, with women in cheap bright kimonos and thick white face paint flounced at the front. Cloud had paid that store special attention, but he couldn't see anyone who might potentially be part of the Wutai's network. He had pinkened slightly and hurried away after the teasing got bawdier. Cloud then spent a good twenty minutes in a bookstore, purchasing political and economic textbooks aimed for college and university students; the cashier had barely paid him and his purchases any attention, which was a relief.

After Cloud was certain he had a fairly good grasp of what the Upper Plate offered, he walked over to the administrative towers. The receptionist at the Human Resources office was friendly and bored, so she had no hesitation in chatting with him.

"I'm afraid we're fresh out of good jobs," she told him, popping the gum in her mouth. Cloud fought not to flinch at the annoying sounds. "Had a batch of file clerk positions open a couple months ago since a few had been transferred to Junon, but they've been filled up for a bit. What are you looking for again?"

"Maybe a job in shipping," Cloud said, smiling just as he practiced. Smiling was surprisingly difficult for him, but espionage classes had taught him that one way to build trust and rapport was to appear friendly and approachable. Smiling did that. He had spent far too many hours in his bathroom mirror before his instructor had pronounced his smile 'acceptable'. "I'm from Junon myself, and I work mainly for a small fish grocer."

"Really?" the girl's smile dampened slightly. "So what brought you over to Midgar?"

He shrugged. "Wanted something better. Was hoping to get married in a year, so I need a good job for my family."

The girl's eyes widened. She sighed wistfully. "Wish my boyfriend's as hardworking as you. He does nothing but hang around the Osmodeus Theatre, trying to get a position in the new Loveless play they're putting out. He wants to be an actor." She rolled her eyes.

"That's . . . interesting,"Cloud said dubiously. He had never met anyone who wanted to be an actor. Wutai's street performers and acrobats tended to come in families, so acting was more along the lines of an inherited job.

"It would be if he could actually get in," the girl said, "but he's just not good enough to cut it as a professional. I'm no actress and I could see that. He's just being stubborn and silly . . . Oh, Professor Hojo!" She was waving at someone behind Cloud. "Sorry, sir, none of the applicants for those lab assistants last week passed the final test. Supervisor Hopkins said that they are still interviewing a couple more."

Cloud froze. It was as if every single cell in his body had seized up. His heartbeat began to echo loudly in his ear and his eyes were misting red.

He could near a snort and then angry muttering, and finally the sound of footsteps fading away. He kept his eyes down, unsure of what the girl might see in his eyes if he looked up then.

"That's Professor Hojo. I hate him," she confided in soft whispers, "he's creepy and he never wears anything aside from that lab coat of his. Sometimes there's this odd smell that follows him around. The only good thing about him is that he's so focused on whatever he's working on that he never hits on us office girls, not like some of the other higher-ups. That and the fact that he usually never comes here. But he recently lost two of his lab assistants—something about an experiment gone wrong—and he's been nagging my supervisor to find replacements. He doesn't understand that it's not easy to find people with the right kind of skills and education, and also have the stomach to work for him." She looked at him consideringly. "I probably should have mentioned those openings to you, but there's really no chance somebody without a degree or some kind of lab experience could get that job. Besides, I don't consider it a good job anyway-who knows what they do in those special labs?" The girl shuddered.

Cloud dry-swallowed. It took him a few minutes to be able to speak, though he kept his gaze just below her own expectant eyes. "No," he smiled (horribly, he thought), "I don't really want to work in some kind of lab. Too used to working outdoors."

So, it was the cadet program, after all.

-TBC-


End file.
